


That, Which In Me Burns And Sings

by dementxa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alistair can't take hints, Established Relationship, F/M, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementxa/pseuds/dementxa
Summary: Bellenora Cousland has news for her husband.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	That, Which In Me Burns And Sings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaymingbinosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymingbinosaur/gifts).



> Warning - this story has characters discussing miscarriage. If this is something that you find triggering or simply uncomfortable to read, please don't read it.

Lachlan had a funny, round, entirely bald head. He also had an inclination to blush regardless of the time and setting, which often to his head assuming the likeness of a ripe tomato. Belle would often stare at it with interest and great constraint while the elderly man examined her.

Regardless of his amusing appearance, Lachlan was a capable healer, one she was glad to have by her side. With his deep, soothing voice, he always managed to dispel her worries. Even now, after he finished assessing her pulse, he let go of her hand and looked at her with eyes beaming with fatherly pride and Belle couldn't help but return his smile.

“Perfectly healthy! Your majesty is quite sturdy!” He took a few steps back, rubbing his hands together. “Did the tea help with your nausea?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“And the fatigue?”

“I've become used to it. It's nothing I can't handle.” She had once been thrown across a rye field by an ogre. She would not be beaten by this. “It's the secrecy that tires me out more. My husband can see something is wrong and he worries.”

“It might be time to tell him, your Majesty,” Lachlan said. “I understand your hesitation. But it has been three months now and you are showing no signs of weakness or illness. This child _will_ be born, and it _will_ be born healthy, I can assure you. There is no reason to hide it from the king any longer.”

She nodded absently, with a hand on her stomach. It had yet to start growing, but soon it would and by then, everyone would know. Even Alistair was bound to notice. Probably.

“Thank you for the advice, serah. I'll consider it.”

She nodded to let him know he could leave. Lachlan bowed and headed to the door, but was forced to jump to the side when it was suddenly pushed open. Alistair rushed in, obviously in quite a fervour. His eyes were twinkling merrily, his cheeks were flushed. He held a piece of paper in his hand and was waving it in the air. The last time Belle had seen him so excited was when his favourite mabari pup had learned to roll on command.

“My lovely foxglove! You will never guess what I have here! You'll jump out of your boots, I swear!”

It was at this point that Alistair saw the healer. He stammered and quickly tucked the paper behind his back. He cleared his throat and, when he spoke again, he was using what Belle liked to think of as his kingly voice.

“Serah Lachlan. My apologies, I'm afraid I didn't see you in my haste. I was … uh … eager to discuss an important matter with my wife. The Queen.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” Lachlan nodded. His face was wise and serious, but his twitching lips betrayed his true feelings. “I shall be in my quarters if the Queen needs my assistance.”

He hurried away, shutting the door behind him. Alistair waited until they could hear his steps no longer. Then he groaned and slumped into a chair.

“Ten years and I still manage to make a fool of myself at least once a day ...”

“Don't worry about it.” Belle smiled. “I personally think this makes you approachable. It's why you're so popular.”

“I thought I was popular because of that time I pushed that Orlesian Duke in the fountain. Which was, of course, an accident. Yes, I laughed when it happened, but it _was_ an accident.” Alistair rubbed his face. Then he turned to her with a frown. “What did Lachlan say? Is it …?”

He trailed off, his voice dying to a whisper as he shot her a worried look. He didn't need to finish the sentence. He and Belle may have left the Order years ago, but they were still Grey Wardens. They still carried the taint in their blood. Sooner or later, their Calling would come.

Belle suddenly realized, quite belatedly, what a mistake she'd made. It had taken her several days to figure out what was causing her symptoms. But Alistair, her sweet, soft husband, who'd long given up on the idea of them having children, had surely jumped to the obvious, logical and utterly wrong conclusion – that Belle's time had come. He'd never mentioned anything to her, but she had caught his face twisting in worry every time she curled up as a spasm cut through her belly. Realizing that her silence had caused her husband turmoil, Belle made up her mind. Her husband deserved to know.

“I'm fine, Alistair”, she said. “It's not the Calling. Lachlan was just checking up on me.” She stood up and went to the window. There was a seagull on the roof across the yard and it seemed to be staring at her. For a second she fancied it were Morrigan. But her prideful friend would hardly choose such an unsightly bird to shapeshift into. Shaking her head lightly, she turned back to Alistair. “What have you got there?”

“Hm? Oh, the letter.” He pulled the paper out again. “Right, so it's from Leliana. It was addressed to you, but the messenger gave it to me. I hope you don't mind I opened it.”

“Of course not. What does it say?”

“Nothing much. Well, there's some Chantry stuff, but I doubt you'd be interested in those.” Alistair scratched his chin, right where he'd cut himself while shaving last week. “Here's the interesting thing, though. The Divine has called for a peace conclave.”

“A peace conclave? Between the mages and templars?” Belle scoffed. “I've heard she was a wise woman, she must know this won't work!”

She shook her head again. The mage rebellion had started out as a conflict many believed would be dealt with swiftly. It had been raging for years now and showed no signs of stopping or even slowing down, with both sides unwilling to reach a compromise.

Divine Justinia had to be a fool to think her conclave would be a success. But maybe she didn't, and was using her influence to achieve a different goal. Belle wondered what it could be.

“Does Leliana say anything else?” She asked.

“Not much. This isn't a letter from an old friend, you see.” Alistair handed her the paper. “It's an invitation.”

“The Divine has invited _us_ to the conclave?” Belle raised her eyebrows. She took the letter and skimmed through it. Alistair was right – though it bore Leliana's name, it was clearly an official invitation from the Chantry. The words, though written in Leliana's hand, were not hers. Perhaps Divine Justinia had hoped that using their old friend would convince them to attend. Her cheeks flushed with anger and she quickly crushed the paper into a ball. “Does the old bag expect us to side with her?!”

“There's my fox!” Alistair grinned. He jumped from the chair and stood behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. “I love it when you get all fired up. You're pretty when you're angry, have I told you that?”

“Only every other day.” She leaned back, resting against him, and closed her eyes. “We'll decline the Divine's invitation, of course. Leliana won't be too happy with us, but I don't care much for her feelings right now.”

Absent-mindedly, her hand went to her stomach again. She'd left her life of adventuring and heroics behind her. Now she had someone else to protect, someone who, though not born yet, needed her. Surely there were others who would be happy to fix the world in her stead.

“I thought you'd say so.” Alistair sighed. “By the way, did you see where the conclave will be taking place?”

“Yes.” She looked at him, puzzled for a moment. Then it dawned on her. “Alistair! You want to go to Haven? Why?”

He shrugged.

“I dunno. I have fond memories of the place, y'know?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. The last time they were in Haven – the _only_ time they had been in Haven, in fact! - the bloodthirsty cultists who lived there had attacked them on sight. Then, to make matters worse, a dragon and its brood had descended upon them. And over their ordeal hung the shadow of arl Eamon, lying on his deathbed. In the end, they had been successful in healing him. But, happy ending aside, she did not look back at their trip to Haven with fondness.

“What possible good memories could you have from that place?”

“I dunno.” Alistair shrugged again. “Do you remember those trials we had to go through to get to the Ashes? The last one, with the fire ...”

“Yes?”

“You were naked there.”

Belle blinked a few time. She stared at her husband, in stunned silence, while her mind struggled to process that Alistair had really just said that. For a second, she wondered whether he wasn't simply joking around, as he had the habit of dropping silly jokes in the most awkward of times. But he seemed quite serious. Exasperated, she sighed and turned her back to him.

“Alistair … we've been married for almost a decade!”

“I know.” His lips stretched into the widest grin she'd ever witnessed. “So?”

“You've seen me in the nude countless times!”

“But that time in Haven was the first time!” He argued. “And we weren't together back then, so it was special to me. And you're acting indignant now, love, but I do remember that your eyes were wandering all over me too!”

“I don't remember doing that!”

“Well, I do!”

Belle pinched her forehead, feeling a slight headache coming on. If she were truly intent on revealing her pregnancy, she better do it now, before Alistair aggravated her further. She pulled on a strand of hair, thinking how exactly she should break the news to her husband. It should be simple, shouldn't it, for her to simply blurt out that she was pregnant. Alistair would be nothing but joyful at the news, she was sure of it. Unfortunately, she also knew he wasn't that good with surprises, so her best strategy would be to help him reach that conclusion on his own.

“It would be nice to see Haven again, wouldn't it?” Alistair was rambling, completely oblivious to her musings. “What do you say, fox? Shall we go and see how the good old temple is faring?”

“Wish I could, but I'm afraid serah Lachlan will disapprove of such a journey.”

“Oh? Why's that?”

“I ...” She hesitated. “I'm still feeling … unwell, Alistair. Serah Lachlan has advised me to change some things in my life. He says it will make the coming months easier for me.”

“The coming months?” She glanced back at him. With his eyebrows furrowed, Alistair suddenly looked as if she'd asked him to solve a complex mathematical problem. “What's going on, love? What changes?”

“Well …” Belle paused to collect her thoughts. She turned to look ahead again, finding it easier to speak without maintaining eye contact with him. “First of all, I will need to avoid alcohol and certain foods.”

“Oh! Well, this sounds reasonable. You've been feeling sick almost every morning.” Alistair leaned in to kiss her behind the ear. His breath tickled her neck and she shuddered at the sudden wave of pleasure. “It's gonna be hard, especially with all those feasts we have planned. But I know you'll be able to do it. Hey, I'll even give up drinking too, if that will make it easier for you. But not the food, though!”

Belle pursed her lips. Oh well, she couldn't have expected him to understand _immediately_. As supportive as Alistair was, this virtue of his seemed to have been at the cost of common sense. Perhaps she had been far too subtle, she thought, and proceeded to slowly push forward.

“Serah Lachlan also said I ought to ease on arduous activities, like riding and hunting.”

“What a shame, darling. You _love_ hunting.”

Belle huffed. Maker's flaming balls, why was this proving so difficult?

“I should also warn you,” she continued, her jaw feeling a little stiffer than before, “that I may become quite moody as well. At the same time I will need to avoid stress at all cost.”

“You need to give up wine _and_ be less moody?” Alistair laughed. “I'll have the steward hide your swords. We don't want any murders in the palace, do we?”

She sighed. She'd been warned that pregnancy would be challenging, but she hadn't expected _this_! She tried once more, dropping all subtlety.

“Alistair, I will also gain a lot of weight.”

“Is this what has you worried? I thought you were acting strange!” He laughed. “Oh, Belle, you shouldn't fret over that! You can change however you want, you will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me!”

Belle groaned and rolled her eyes. She pushed herself out of Alistair's embrace, who promptly took a step back under her scorching glare.

“Alistair!”

“W-what?”

“You can be so dense sometimes!”

“I know!” He replied, wide-eyed. “What did I do?”

“I'm trying to tell you that you're going to be a father!”

Suddenly feeling tired, she walked away and sat on her bed with a small huff. Alistair stayed in his place for a few seconds, staring at her with a dazed face. His mouth was open and his lips were moving, as if he were speaking. But he wasn't making a sound.

Belle waited, at first determined to let him come to his senses on his own. But as the minutes passed by and her husband remained petrified, she soon lost her patience.

“Would you like to leave so you can think over what I said in peace?”

“I-I … n-no, I … uh ...” He swayed on his legs, looking down at the ground. She noticed his knees were shaking. “Uhh … sorry, I … uh … you're not joking, are you?”

“Do you take me for a jester?”

“No, of course not! I ...” He sighed. “Sorry, this is all just so … I mean, I thought we couldn't ...” He suddenly turned to her. “You're sure about it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. She hesitated, knowing that her next words might hurt him. “I've known for three months now.”

“You're that far along?!” He gaped at her. “Love, why did you hide it from me?!”

Belle sighed and clutched her stomach with both hands.

“I'm sorry, Alistair. I wanted to, but … you know how we are. We aren't like normal people. I didn't want to tell you I was with our child because … if I lost it ...” Her voice broke and she turned away.

“Oh, love ...” He rushed to her. He didn't sit down, instead kneeling on the floor before her. He gently placed his hands on her stomach, over hers. “It's okay. I understand.”

“I'm still not sure if … if I can carry this child to the end.” She bit her lower lip. “Lachlan says I can, but … Alistair, I don't know. This is all new and scary for me, and I ...”

“Shh ...”

He moved to sit beside her and pulled her in for a warm embrace. Belle rested her head on his shoulder. She hadn't anticipated becoming so upset. But having finally revealed the truth to Alistair had suddenly made everything real and she could no longer ignore all the risks and possible unfortunate ends for her unborn child.

“Love, I've seen you do so many great things,” Alistair said in a gentle tone while stroking her hair. “You are strong and you can do everything you want. I know that because I've seen you do it before.”

“This is different, Alistair.” She sniffed, finally allowing her tears to fall. “This is out of my control. I can do everything right and … and ...”

“I know. It's scary, I know.” He wrapped an arm around her. “But you've come this far, love.”

She looked up at him and saw him smiling. He was scared too, she could sense that. But he was also trying to be strong and positive and she appreciated that. She appreciated the faith he had in her.

“Thank you, Alistair.” She closed her eyes. “I'm scared, but that doesn't mean I won't fight with everything I have for our child.”

“I know you will, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “And I'll be right here, supporting you in any way you need.”

He pulled her down on the bed, helping her settle on top of him. He held her with one arm and played with her hair with the other. She smiled and relaxed in his embrace, enjoying their closeness. They weren't often allowed to be so openly affectionate with each other.

“So …” Alistair spoke after a while. “We really are having a baby?”

“We are.” She sighed. “How do you feel about it?”

“I'm happy. I never thought it would happen.” Alistair chuckled. “What do you think it'll be? A boy or a girl?”

“It's too early to say,” she replied. “And does it matter, really?”

“I guess not.” He shrugged. “I mean, I used to dream that if I ever had a child, and if it was a boy, I would name him Duncan. Oh!” She felt him flinch. “But you probably want to name our child after your parents, right? They deserve to be honoured too.”

“I would like that, yes.” She nodded. “But naming our child Duncan-Bryce-Eleanor Theirin would be such a cruel thing to do.”

“Oh, Maker, yes!” Alistair laughed. “So, what do we do then?”

Belle didn't say anything. She still had a hand on her stomach and she thought she felt something, the lightest of heartbeat, under her fingers. It was her imagination, probably. But it could also be a sign. Who was to say?

“How about we give our child a name that is their own?” She asked. “Just a regular name, one that doesn't come with history or with expectations. A name that they could shape with on their own.”

“Sounds good,” Alistair agreed. “Have anything in mind?”


End file.
